


Don’t Wander in the Dark Alone

by Ellegrine



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Major Character Injury, Never Repost My Work Anywhere, Protective Dick Grayson, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellegrine/pseuds/Ellegrine
Summary: The first night Dick Grayson met him, Dick was bleeding out on a rooftop in the Narrows, the red of his uniform turning even darker in the night.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 44
Kudos: 871





	Don’t Wander in the Dark Alone

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the following quote by Jolene Perry, "Because brothers don’t let each other wander in the dark alone."

There was a little boy in Crime Alley.

His name was Jason Todd.

He was scrawny, but fierce. He was slippery as an eel and refused to be broken. He had black hair, blue eyes, too many scars, more intelligence than people twice his age, and a bigger heart than Superman. 

* * *

The first night Dick Grayson met him, Dick was bleeding out on a rooftop in the Narrows, the red of his uniform turning even darker in the night. Jason — though Dick didn’t know his name at the time — sighed from the far end of the rooftop Dick had collapsed on.

“Can’t even fly. What kind of Robin can’t fly?”

Before Dick could reply, Jason was at his side. 

The boy, tiny and much too young to be out so late, pulled his T-shirt off. He didn’t have anything underneath it. The boy was skin and bones; Dick had never felt so awful for not having food with him. Jason grimaced at the T-shirt — it was a Wonder Woman shirt, thin and ratty, but clearly well-loved — and then pressed it right against the wound on Dick’s chest that was bleeding profusely. 

He hadn’t been fast enough to dodge all of The Riddler’s goons. Batman was going to be disappointed.

Dick blacked out and woke up in Wayne Manor, with Bruce Wayne at his bedside, head down in his hands.

“I owe a little kid a Wonder Woman shirt,” Dick said, before passing out again.

* * *

The next time Dick saw him, wearing the Wonder Woman replacement shirt Dick had left on that roof (along with a jacket and some food), the kid was being held against an alley wall, all his weight dangling from a grown man’s arm.

“Where have you been, huh? What have you been up to, brat?”

Dick dropped down from the fire escape and landed feet first on the schmuck’s head. Dick hated people who beat on kids. Kids were supposed to be safe and loved. Wasn’t that why he and Batman were out here every night — rain or shine — to protect the innocents?

“What did you have to do that for? Hell, Robin. He's going to be pissed at me later,” the boy spat. 

His eyes were narrowed bitterly in the gloom of the alley as he glared at the man unconscious at Dick’s feet.

“You know this guy?” Dick asked, incredulous.

He had thought some random creep grabbed the kid — who was still too small and young to be outside this late! — but that apparently wasn’t the case.

“My old man.”

And, suddenly, Dick realized all too well why a little kid might be outside alone in the dark of the night in Crime Alley. Hell, the kid was probably safer out here in the freezing cold than he was wherever he lived.

“I —”

The boy groaned and kicked his father.

“You’ve done enough, Robin. Piss off. Don’t you have real people to save?”

“You’re a real person.”

The boy laughed; it sent chills down Dick’s spine, and he didn’t even shiver anymore when Two-Face cackled.

“Nobody in the Narrows is a real person, Robin. We’re crime stats and walking corpses that just aren’t dead yet.”

Dick sucked in a breath as those words pummeled him. Were he and Bruce doing any good out here? Did anyone believe in them at all?

As the boy rolled his eyes and turned away, Dick couldn’t help but grab his shoulder. The boy went rigid. Dick let go immediately and said, “Real people have names. Don’t you have one?”

The kid glared back at him; it was an impressive glare for a kid.

After nibbling his lip in hesitation, the kid stuck out his jaw mulishly and bit out one word. 

“Jason.”

* * *

Dick didn’t see Jason again for almost three months. 

He stumbled across the kid on patrol, once again on a roof in the dark, only this time he was smoking.

“What are you doing?” Dick shrieked. 

It didn’t surprise him that Jason had managed to get his hands on cigarettes — the kid seemed resourceful as hell — but what little kid actually tried a cigarette and didn’t throw it away in disgust?

“Celebrating,” Jason said, lips wrinkled in distaste.

“With a cigarette?”

“Hell yes!”

Dick sighed and sat down beside Jason, his legs dangling off the side of the building. If it were any other kid, Dick would have told them to get away from the edge, that it was dangerous. He had a feeling that if he said that to Jason the kid would laugh in his face and say, “I’m not taking advice from a Robin that can’t fly.”

“All right, I’ll bite. What are you celebrating?”

What had happened in a Crime Alley kid’s awful life that he thought was worth a celebration? What if it was having enough food for dinner? Or getting a new blanket from one of the shelters that Bruce donated so much money to?

“Old man’s in the big house again. He’s not going to be there to knock me around for a while. I might go a whole week without getting punched.”

Dick squeezed his eyes shut and almost wished he hadn’t asked.

* * *

Dick felt consumed with rage.

He had diverted from the patrol path Batman had given him for the evening; his instincts were going haywire. The little hairs on the back of his neck had stood up when he reached the area where he broke off to Crime Alley. Only, that wasn’t meant to be his patrol route tonight.

Thank goodness he had followed his instincts.

Because Jason was standing on a street corner, beneath a flickering streetlight, talking with some working girls. And the john with the fistful of cash wasn’t looking at any of the prostitutes.

Dick dropped off the fire escape in freefall. His shins ached when he landed in a crouch. It only took a moment to stand and have a birdarang at the john’s throat as the prostitutes stumbled backwards. Dick hadn’t wanted to kill anyone this badly since Tony Zucco.

Jason was a baby!

“I know your face. By morning, I’ll know your name. We’re going to keep an eye on you for the rest of your life. You ever come trolling for kids again and I’ll put you in the harbor,” Dick snarled.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened. He knew the girls would have done their best to protect Jason, but this guy was as big as Bruce.

“The Batman doesn’t kill,” the john stated.

Dick leaned forward and said, “I’m not the Batman.”

If the soft, tinkling sound hadn’t informed Dick that the man had pissed himself, the pungent odor that swarmed the area would have done the job just fine. The john stumbled backward blindly and then sprinted away. It took more control than Dick would like to admit to keep from chasing the bastard and hunting him down in the dark; if he slit the guy’s throat with a broken beer bottle, Bruce would probably never figure it out.

A sharp tug on his cape spun Dick part-way around.

Jason glared up at him, but that didn’t fool Dick for a second. The kid’s arms were wrapped so tightly around himself that his knuckles were white.

“I’m not weak. I can fight them off; I’ve done it before.”

Something like this had happened before? That was the last thing Dick wanted to hear. Angry tears spilled from his eyes, stuck trapped behind his domino mask. Couldn’t Gotham give Jason a break?

* * *

It was only a few weeks later that Dick changed direction mid-swing as a red streaming firework went off to his right. It was coming from a rooftop in the Narrows.

Dick and Bruce were hunting the Joker, who had escaped from Arkham Asylum a few days before, and he didn’t have time to stop. He didn’t. He — crap, what if it was Jason? He had never given Jason a way of contacting him, so what if this was a desperate bid to get his attention? The firework hadn’t gone off until Dick had grappled past several neon lights, his cape and flashy colored costume easy to see.

He turned and swung himself toward where the firework was dying.

Dick’s comm crackled and then Batman’s voice was in his ear, demanding, “Robin, report.”

“I’ll just be a minute, B. I have to check something out.”

“Robin —”

“I have to do this, B,” Dick said, speeding up as he swung from rooftop to rooftop.

Even knowing it could be a trap, even knowing anyone could have seen him and Jason meeting on that rooftop multiple times, Dick had to go. Because if it was something serious, if Jason — proud, stubborn Jason — was asking Robin for help, Dick would never be able to live with himself if he let the boy down.

He landed on silent feet to the sight of Jason nervously looking around and flicking a lighter on and off.

“Jason, what’s wrong?”

The words had just left Dick’s mouth when Bruce landed beside him. Dick could feel Bruce’s disapproval, but it didn’t get to him this time. Jason had saved Dick’s life, had literally given Dick the shirt off his back to do so, and nothing bad was ever going to happen to Jason as long as Dick could help it.

Jason flinched slightly at Batman’s appearance, but he didn’t take a single step backwards. Dick was so proud of him. There were criminals in their Rogue Gallery who couldn’t even boast that.

“Molly’s john works for the Joker. He flapped his jaws in bed. She was there the night you — she was there. She told me, so I could tell you. I know where the Joker is. I checked, Robin, I swear. Intel’s good. It isn’t a trap. I wouldn’t — not you,” Jason said, all his words for Dick, glaring right at Batman the whole time, as if daring Batman to call him a liar.

Dick held his breath as Bruce took a step forward and then knelt before Jason. 

Jason stared right at the white-outs of Batman’s cowl, as if Batman had started a staring contest that Jason refused to lose.

After a far too tense silence, the corner of Bruce’s lips quirked up the slightest bit. He asked, “Where’s Joker?”

Dick exhaled loudly as his shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t going to have to defend them from each other. 

“I’ll show you,” Jason said.

“That’s not safe —”

“I’m the one that’s got the intel. I’m the one that’s going to have to save your butts if you screw up. Just because it isn’t a trap doesn’t mean it’s safe. Joker’s a sick freak. I owe Robin,” Jason said, chin thrust out, “and he isn’t dying on my watch. Robin can’t die.”

Bruce pointed a black-clad finger at Jason and ordered, “You stay out of sight.”

“Duh,” Jason said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m poor, not stupid.”

Dick bit his lip as Bruce’s shoulders hitched — just like they always did when he was uncomfortable with children and felt like he had screwed up — and then burst into laughter.

“He sure told you, B!”

Jason smirked and crooked his fingers at them, like someone bringing his dog to heel; Dick laughed so hard at Bruce’s stunned expression that he wrapped his arms around his ribs to support them. It was so funny it hurt. 

“Now,” Jason said, “let’s catch a clown. Nobody’s safe when Joker’s out. And if you’re too chicken to put Joker six-feet under, Arkham will have to do.”

He led the way. Batman and Robin followed.

* * *

When Dick’s instincts started getting antsy, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he swung by Crime Alley, he knew something was up with Jason. It was bad. He could feel it like a sixth sense.

“Diverting from route into Crime Alley,” Dick said into his comm.

“Trouble?”

“I think something’s wrong with Jason,” Dick replied.

Bruce sighed over the comm. “Keep me updated. Batman out.”

Dick found Jason sitting on the edge of their usual rooftop, swaying, a half-empty bottle of tequila on its side next to him. Dick had no way of knowing how much of it Jason had imbibed.

“Oh Jason,” Dick sighed. He carefully pulled the boy away from the edge, making sure to let go as soon as he wasn’t in danger of falling off. “Celebrating again?”

“No,” Jason slurred, eyes red and swollen. 

Now that Jason wasn’t bent forward, almost in half, Dick could see the dried tear tracks on his face. In the two years that Dick had known Jason and been meeting with him, he had never once seen Jason cry. Had someone — 

“Draw-drownin’ my sorrows. ‘Cause I’mma adult. ‘N that’s what adults do.”

Dick dropped to his knees without a care for how the impact might jar the knee he had twisted badly last week. He had to find out what had happened, because he was starting to assume the worst. A lot of kids and teens thought one thing in particular made someone an adult, and if Jason had — Dick punched the rooftop; his knuckles screamed with pain. 

“What happened, Jay?”

“My mom’s dead. She overdosed on drugs. I —” Jason sobbed and scrubbed at his eyes with balled fists. “Robin, I don’t have anywhere to go. Nobody’s going to want me. Might as well fall off the roof and —”

“No!”

The thought of Jason falling to his death . . . of Dick ignoring his instincts a second too long, made bile rise in his throat. What if he had been ten seconds later? Would he have arrived to see Jason falling off the building without a net to catch him? Would he have heard the meaty thunk as Jason slammed into the pavement below? Would he have seen the kid he had come to think of and love as a younger brother haloed in a spreading puddle of blood?

“I want you!” Dick said. 

Dick grabbed Jason and pulled him into his lap, hugging him as tightly as he could. He was so thankful it wasn’t what he had feared, and, at the same time, he felt so guilty for feeling thankful, because Jason’s mother was still dead.

“Come home with me, Jay. Please. Trust me enough to let me take you home. I’ll be your family. I swear on my parents’ grave that you’ll be safe there. Nobody will  _ ever _ try to touch you like the johns. Nobody will  _ ever _ punch you just because you’re in the way or bad, or whatever it was your old man said. You’re  _ so _ good, Jay. So good. There’ll always be enough food to eat; you can have as much as you want whenever you want. And it’s warm; you won’t have to be cold anymore. Please, Jay, trust me enough to let me take you home with me.”

Dick let go of Jason with one hand just long enough to raise the white-outs on his domino mask, so Jason could see how utterly sincere he was. So he would know Dick was serious.

“Be my baby brother, my Little Wing,” Dick begged. “Please.”

* * *

There were two boys in Wayne Manor. The littlest one was new.

His name was Jason Wayne.

  
  



End file.
